Chapter 20 Chapter 18 St. Mary's Church, 14 Concord Avenue

Pondello knocked for a long time on the door leading to the sacristy at the back of the church. According to the instructions of the police, Father Francisco put up a sign here, the handwriting was slightly crooked, saying that the church was temporarily closed for renovation.Although he obeyed the order, the priest was perhaps a little deaf, for Pontillo had been knocking here for five minutes, and behind him a thousand people crowded the square, and the number was still increasing, adding to the confusion.There are more crowds on this little street than on Avenue de la Concorde. At last Pondello heard voices coming from another door of the church.The latch opened and Father Francisco's face appeared in the gap in the corridor, his eyes squinted in the sun.

"who is it?" "Father, this is Detective Pontillo. I was here yesterday, remember?" The priest nodded, and then asked: "What do you want to do? You have come to tell me that our church can reopen to the public. Praise the Lord! There are so many Puritans outside. Look, look around." He said, pointing to thousands of people on the street. "Oh, Father, I need to ask you a few questions. May I come in?" "Must it be now? I'm praying." "I won't keep you long. Really, just a minute or two." Francisco shook his head from left to right.

"What is the world now, what is the world? Death is everywhere, and death is running around with the crowd. They won't let me finish my prayers." The door opened slowly, and then slammed shut behind Pontillo. "Father, this door is really heavy." "Yeah, boy. Sometimes it's really hard for me to open it. I often come back from the grocery store and I have a hard time opening this door. No one helps an old man like me move things these days. What is it World, what world?" "You should get a shopping cart." Pontillo came back and examined the gate from the inside, examining the bolts and the heavy shutters attached to the walls.

"I mean, there's no sign of breaking the lock. It doesn't look like it's going to take a lot of force." "Easy indeed, my boy. Thank God this is easy. The lock is strong. The door had just been repainted a year ago by a parishioner who was a friend of mine, a good old gypsy, He has asthma, you know, and the smell of paint makes him sick." "That old gypsy must be a good Christian." "Yes, he is, my child." "But that's not what I'm here for. I'm looking to find out how the killer got into the church. Especially when you say there's no other entrance, and Detective Paula thinks that's an important detail."

"Maybe he came in through a window, he could use a ladder. But I don't think so, because maybe he'll break the window. God, if he walks all this way and ends up breaking some colored windows How bad the glass windows must be." "Do you mind if I check these windows?" "Of course not, please follow me." The priest limped from the sacristy into the church, lit only by a few candles placed beside statues of saints and martyrs.Pondello was amazed to see that many of these sculptures were lit with candles. "There are so many offerings, Father."

"Oh my boy. I lighted all the candles in the church. Please saints can take the soul of our Pope John Paul II directly to heaven." Pontillo was moved by the priest's simplicity.They were standing in the middle of the corridor now, and it was a good angle: the door of the sacristy could be seen, and just ahead was the door and window of the church, the only door of the church.He gently slides his fingers across the rows of pews in the back of the church, an unconscious movement he often does when he is at mass in the chapel, and he has repeated it no less than a thousand times.This is the house of God, but it has been desecrated and defiled by bad men, and today, illuminated by the flickering light of candles, the church plays a different role than it did before.Pontillo shivered involuntarily. It was cold and humid here, but it was hot outside.He looked up at the windows. The farthest one was about 16 feet from the ground to the edge, and the entire window was made of intricate stained glass and color patterns, unscratched.

"It's impossible for a man to climb in through a window with two hundred pounds on his back. Unless the killer uses a cane to support his weight. And he'll be seen by thousands of Puritans outside. No, that's impossible." Pondello stood with Father Francisco to say goodbye to Pope John Paul II, both of whom heard the singing of young people outside.They talked to each other about love and peace. "Oh, these young men, they are our hope for the future. Aren't they, Sheriff?" "Yes, you are quite right, Father." Pontillo scratched his head. He couldn't think of any other way to enter but the door and the window.He took a few steps, and there was a loud echo in the empty church.

"Father, does anyone else have a key to the church? Maybe the cleaner who cleans for you?" "No, absolutely not. The cleaning of our church is done by very religious people who come to help me. They come every Saturday morning and every Monday afternoon. They come when I am there. Actually I There's only one set of keys, and I always carry them with me. You see." He reached into the inside pocket of his robe with his left hand and shook the key chain. "Well then, Father, I'm at a loss. I can't imagine how the murderer could have come in without anyone seeing him."

"I don't know, my boy. Too bad I can't help." "Thank you, Father." Pontillo turned toward the little door of the sacristy. "Unless..." Father Carmel seemed to think of something, then he shook his head and said, "No, it's impossible, it's impossible." "What's wrong? Please tell me. Anything small might help." "No, forget it." "Tell me, Father. What is in your mind?" The priest shook his head in thought. "Well, that's right. There's an underground passage here. It's a very old walkway that was used when the church was being rebuilt."

"Is there still a church here?" "Yes, the original church was destroyed when Rome was sacked in 1527. The church was in the line of artillery bombardment during the defense of Castel Sant'Angelo. At that time the church..." "Can we make up history lessons later? Let's check out this aisle now!" "You really want to see it? Your clothes are nice and clean." "I'm going, please lead the way, Father." The priest nodded and walked around the church to the pool of holy water. He pointed to the cracks between the stones on the floor and said, "See the cracks? Put your hand in and lift that stone hard."

Pontillo knelt down and lifted the stone slab as the priest instructed, but he couldn't lift it. "Try again, push hard to the left." Ponteiro did as Father Francisco said, but still nothing happened.Pontillo was not tall and thin, and had little strength.But he doesn't want to give up.He tried again, and he felt a stone shift to the left, and it was easier this time.It was actually a floor trap.He opened the door with one hand, and there was a short, narrow staircase, about eight feet high.Pontillo took out a small flashlight from his pocket, and he turned it on to illuminate the dark place below. The stone stairs looked solid. "Great, let's see where this leads." "Mr. Detective, don't go down by yourself." "Take it easy, Father, there's nothing to be afraid of, it's all right." Pontillo thought of the expressions on Paola and Dante's faces when he reported it to them.He started to go down. "Wait a minute, I'm going to get a candle." "Don't bother, Father, my flashlight is enough." Pontillo shouted to the top. At the bottom of the stairs was a short, damp hallway that led to a small room of more than eighteen feet square.Pontillo shone his flashlight everywhere, as if the basement was only this big.There are two trimmed columns, each six feet high, in the center of the room, which look old.Pontillo couldn't guess the date of construction because he was never interested in history lessons.Even so, he could still see something on a pillar that he didn't think was ancient, it looked like duct tape. This is not a secret passage, this is an execution chamber. Pontillo turned around, and suddenly, something was hitting him in the face, which was clearly aimed at smashing his skull.The thing hit him in the right shoulder.Pontillo fell to the ground, convulsing with pain.The flashlight in his hand fell out and rolled aside, and the electric light was still shining on the bottom of a pillar.Immediately Pontillo felt a second blow coming at him again, coming from behind him to the right, in an arc towards him.This time it hit him in the left arm.He groped for the gun hanging on his body, enduring the pain, and managed to pull the gun out with his left hand. The pistol seemed to be so heavy made of lead, and he had no feeling in his other arm. An iron rod, he thought.The attacker must have been holding an iron bar or something like that. He wanted to aim at the opponent but couldn't use force at all.He leaped towards the post, when the third blow came again.This time it hit him in the back and knocked him to the ground.He gripped the gun tighter, as if for life. A foot on his hand forced him to let go of the gun.The foot was still exerting force, and the bones of the hand began to crack.He heard a vague voice, which seemed familiar because of its distinctive tone. "Pondello, Pondello. As I said, it turned out that the church was on the line of artillery fire in the defense of Castel Sant'Angelo. Later a pagan temple was built over this place, and then when Pope Alexander II Overthrew the pagan temple, and in the Middle Ages, it was said to be the tomb of Romulus." The iron rod hit Pontillo again, hitting him on the back, and he lay there unconscious. "But our exciting history doesn't stop there, the two pillars you see are where the apostles Peter and Paul were tortured and bound, and finally they were killed by the Romans. You Romans, always so 'thoughtful' to our apostles '." The iron rod came down again heavily.This time it hit the left leg, and Pontillo moaned in pain. "You would have heard this up there if you hadn't bothered me, but don't worry, you'll appreciate the meaning of these pillars better now. You'll be very, very familiar with them!" Pontillo wanted to move, but he found that he could not move at all, and this discovery frightened him.He didn't know how badly he was hurt, he had no feeling in his limbs.A pair of strong hands pulled him up and moved in the dark.He could feel him moving, and more so, the piercing pain.He couldn't help calling out. "I don't advise you to yell, no one will hear you. No one heard the other two when they died. I prepared very well and I don't like people bothering me." Pontillo felt his consciousness slowly sinking into a deep, dark hole, like a person slowly falling asleep.In the dream he heard the voice of a young man in the street, a few paces above him.He could make out the hymns they sang.It was a memory brought back from childhood, like a million years ago: "If you know you've been saved, please clap your hands." "Actually, I really hate it when people bother me," Kaloski said.

---

Notes: